


Hold my Heart

by MidnightEternal



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Bathing/Washing, Dorian Pavus Has Issues, Dorian is a Good Friend, Dorian is a precious flower child and he must be protected, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exhaustion, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Halward Pavus' A+ Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, It's a little bit intimate though, Krem and Dorian are friends, Krem is a good friend, M/M, Minor weight loss, No Sex, When it's someone you care about you give them what they need, let's be real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 15:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7392625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightEternal/pseuds/MidnightEternal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian comes back to Skyhold after a long and exhausting journey with the Inquisitor. Bull watches his Kadan be supported across the courtyard, and quickly leads him back to the tavern, planning to do anything he can to ensure his lover rests and heals. Turns out there are more mental wounds than physical ones, and Bull can only listen and try to ease the lingering pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold my Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Bore of my immense love for Bull/Dorian. Even though I've romanced them both as Inquisitor, if you took the Inquisitor out of the equation, there is no pair more suited to each other in the entire game. The Inquisitor here is completely gender-neutral, and their race isn't mentioned for the short time they're in the story either. 
> 
> This fic is a shameless excuse for fluff and exploring their romance and characters more. Plus, if I see one more fic about Dorian being a "slut" I am going to lose it. Shout out to a friend of mine reading this, who has the -exact- sames views on Dorian and Bull as I do. If you can see this, T, this one's for you, partner <3 
> 
> Please, enjoy. <3

Bull anxiously waited for the Inquisitor and his party’s return. Dorian had left with their leader weeks ago, and they were long overdue to arrive back at Skyhold. Leliana received a missive from the Inquisitor a few days past, it was simple, short, and had only stated that they had run into trouble on their travels through the Hinterlands, and that they’d be back at the keep within the week. The Iron Bull had looked over the note personally, and it was only thanks to his training that he saw the tired way each letter had been penned onto the page, as if it had been a painstaking task for the Inquisitor to write each one. 

A horn sounded three times in the distance, signalling the arrival of a friendly party, and following it, one long hum of the horn, which meant the Inquisitor had come back. Bull was running for the gate before he’d even really realised that he’d stood from his usual spot in The Herald’s Rest. 

He stopped at the bottom of the stone steps, watching the party come through the gates and halt near the stables. The Inquisitor slid from their horse with their usual grace, if more worn-down than Bull had seen them in some time. They immediately went over to Dorian’s horse, and grasped the man’s arms as he lowered himself from his own steed. As soon as his feet touched the ground, the Inquisitor wrapped an arm around the mage’s waist, letting him lean on them for support. Bull walked forward, his eye taking in his Tevinter lover’s state as he neared him. 

The mage’s clothes were pretty damaged, much like the rest of the party, burnt in places, ripped in others, and dirt-streaked everywhere else. One of his shoulder straps was completely torn, and there was a long gash in the fabric that stretched around his left side, off-white bandages covering the beautiful dark skin, that Bull knew intimately, underneath. His bare arms were strewn with smaller cuts and bruises, usual battle wounds that even the Inquisitor carried. His hair was somewhat out of place, though it wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone other than those close to him. Now that he was closer, Bull took in his beautiful mage’s face, and saw the dark, bruise-like colouration beneath his eyes, and the slight pallor to his skin; just a touch lighter than the dark caramel that Bull knew. The right side of his face was discoloured: a dark bruise laying over his high cheekbone.  
He quickened his last few steps to Dorian, and moved to take his weight from the Inquisitor. His Boss smiled, exhaustion in the tight lines of their young face. 

“It’s been a rough few weeks, Bull. Take good care of him, will you?” They said, gesturing to Dorian. 

Bull looked down at the man, who had, in the moments of being passed from the Inquisitor to Bull, closed him eyes and curled into his Amatus’ side. Bull raised his large hand to the small of Dorian’s back, a comforting presence that he knew his lover enjoyed. 

“Yes, Boss. I’ll leave you to your own relaxation, enjoy the rest,” Bull winked, motioning to the Inquisitor’s faithful, who stood off to the side, waiting. 

The Inquisitor laughed, light and cheerful. They left with a fond look at the pair, grasping at Dorian’s shoulder before they departed. 

Bull nudged Dorian slightly, to get his attention so they could starting walking back to Bull’s room. 

“Kadan?” Bull said, gently tugging the mage closer to his side, “Let’s get you inside, I’ll have a bath readied for you, and then you can sleep for a week if you wanted.” 

Dorian made a noise of agreement, and began to focus his efforts on putting one foot forward at a time. “Amatus?” 

“Yes, Kadan?” Bull replied, glancing down at Dorian with subtle concern. 

“I’m... very tired.” 

Bull could hear the exhaustion seeping into Dorian’s words, his usually soft accent becoming somewhat thicker. He curled his hand around Dorian’s hip, feeling the knotted muscle beneath his fingers.

“I know, Kadan. You can sleep soon,” Bull rumbled. 

They arrived back at the tavern quickly, most likely thanks to Bull’s ability to keep Dorian upright and steady without much power. He led the weary mage towards the stairs, nodding at Krem when the man looked at Dorian with alarm. He’d get an update later. The two ‘Vints had become close friends over time. The walk up the stairs was somewhat interesting, every time Dorian’s steps faltered, he’d grab at both Bull and the railing, and Bull would tighten his grip on his hip. They reached the top without any incidents. 

“Tired, falling asleep where I stand, blue lights draining, bottles empty, staggering, _no, not the Inquisitor_ , metal cold, red stains, _so hard to get out_ , using the last of a wind-blown candle flame, _Silenced_ , scraping at the bottom of an almost empty barrel, _fight, damn you, fight_.” 

“Kid?” Bull asked, looking at the empty space around them. 

Cole popped into existence next to Bull’s door, and pushed it open. 

“ _Bull, Bull keeps the pain away. Bull is here_. He hurts, but it is softer. Like feathers on skin. He’s happy to be in your arms, The Iron Bull. _Safe here_. No more swords that dance with Templar shields. No more red stains.” 

“Thanks, kid. I’ve got him,” Bull grunted, making his way carefully into the room, manoeuvring Dorian alongside him. 

“Make sure Dorian rests, The Iron Bull.” 

“Kid, could you get some water sent up?” Bull asked, almost a second thought. 

Cole nodded, and popped out of existence. 

Bull walked Dorian over to the bed, took his staff to stand it against the wall, and softly picked the mage up, hooking one arm beneath his knees, and the other around his shoulders. The Qunari lowered his lover to rest against the headboard, and sat next to him on the bed, watching as Dorian opened his half-lidden eyes. The usual silver-grey was dark with fatigue, but his pink lips quirked upwards as he looked up at Bull. Dorian reached up with his right hand, fingers outstretched to meet the leather of Bull’s eyepatch. Dorian’s hand trailed downwards, feather-light, to cup at Bull’s cheek, his thumb smoothing across the planes of Bull’s face. 

“Amatus,” he breathed. 

Bull placed his hand over the top of Dorian’s, lightly stroking his partner’s skin. 

“Looks like you’ve had a rough time, Kadan.” 

Dorian let out a choked laugh. “I’ve missed you.” 

Bull smiled. “I missed you, too, Kadan.” 

There was a poof, and Cole appeared next to them. Dorian pulled his hand away from Bull’s face in surprise. The mage dropped his gaze to look at one of the rips on his robes, wanting to look anywhere but at Cole. Far too many people had seen him in his weakened state. He felt vulnerable and ashamed. These were not the actions of the Scion of House Pavus.

“The bath is ready, The Iron Bull. I’ve pressed the heat rune as well,” he looked at Dorian, eyes searching. “You’ll be fine. The Iron Bull will listen, and he will _understand_. You are safe here, Dorian of House Pavus, and you are much stronger than you believe yourself to be.” 

Dorian’s head snapped up at the words, but as quick as he’d come, the blond had disappeared again. Bull placed his large hand on the unbruised side of Dorian’s face, and ran his thumb on the darkened skin under Dorian’s eyes. 

“Talk when you’re ready, Kadan, and not a moment before,” he glanced over to the bathing chambers, Cole had left the door open, and he could see the steam rising from the copper tub. “Come, let me look after you.” 

With that said, Bull started to unclasp each of the buckles that connected the sides of Dorian’s robe, gentle hands focusing on the task of undressing his injured lover. Dorian grimaced when his hand brushed over his left side, Bull ran his hands through Dorian’s hair in apology, a tiny smile tugging at his lips. Dorian’s gaze flickered to catch his own, but the mage didn’t or _couldn’t_ hold it, and looked away again. Bull returned his focus to the robe, slipping it off Dorian’s shoulders, tugging it from under the mage, and throwing it over the end of the bed. Reaching down slightly, the Qunari pulled at the strings that held the man’s breeches up on his hips. Bull eyed their tightness, recalling previous times he’d done this same act. He ran his fingers along Dorian’s hips, feeling the natural jut of the bone that he’d always seen on his lover. There was some weight loss, he could feel it, running his hand lightly over the muscle-taut skin of Dorian’s stomach. Not noticeable, since the man was so fit anyway, but it was definitely there. The negative effects of a long journey. He hooked his arm around Dorian’s lower back, lifting the mage with one hand, and pulling his breeches down and off with the other, leaving the man clad in only his smallclothes. Those came off too, leaving Dorian completely bare in front of him, save for the bandages wrapped around his torso, all dark caramel skin and planes of muscle. If the mage hadn’t been so exhausted, this homecoming might have gone an entirely different way. 

Dorian reached up with both of his hands, cupping Bull’s face and pulling himself up from the bed, feeling Bull’s arm tighten around him. He leant forward, pressing desperate lips to his lover’s. Bull reciprocated the kiss, pulling Dorian up towards him, wrapping both arms around his bare back. Dorian pulled away, limply laying his arms over each of Bull’s shoulders, his hands lightly brushing against each other behind the man’s neck. He rested his forehead against Bull’s, staring into his eyes. He took a deep breath in, letting his eyes slip closed as it released. 

“I missed you.”

Bull laughed; a rumble deep in his chest, affectionate and happy. One Dorian had heard many times before. The Qunari gently bumped his head against Dorian’s, and moved his hands to rest under the man’s buttocks, lifting him up and standing at the same time. 

“You’ve said,” Bull replied, a smile on his face. “Let’s get you cleaned up. You’ll feel better.”

Dorian wrapped his legs around Bull’s stomach, pressing close to the much larger man as he was carried across the room. He dropped his head to Bull’s shoulder, turning to face his lover’s thick neck, his gaze focused on the pulse point on the side. He wrapped his arms loosely around the Qunari’s neck, resting his elbows on Bull’s clavicle. 

The next thing Dorian was aware of was the cold metal of the copper tub as Bull lowered him down to sit on its edge. He straightened his spine in a mixture between a shudder and a flinch, immediately regretting the action when it pulled at his side. He whimpered lowly, barely making a sound, but Bull heard it nonetheless, and raised his hand to place it gently over Dorian’s bandage-covered side. 

“Can I take these off?” Bull questioned. 

Dorian give a single nod, his hands gripping at the sides of the tub. 

Bull gave him a look of apprehension. “You sure?”

Dorian took a deep breath, and smiled. “It’s shallow. The bandages are over-dramatic.” 

“And you’d know all about being dramatic, wouldn’t you, Kadan?” 

Dorian lifted his head, grinning, eyes lighting up with humour. “But, of course, my dear Bull. After all, the Scion of such a prestigious house must be somewhat dramatic, don’t you think?”

“And no one does it better than you, sweetheart,” Bull grinned, eyes soft. 

Dorian’s grin dropped into a tender smile, and slowly, his muscles loosened, shoulders relaxing. Bull watched this as he knelt on the floor, and then began pulling at the knot of Dorian’s bandages, unwinding the cloth from his skin. As the wrapping came away, it became stained with splotches of red. 

“Haven’t been very careful with this, have you?” He asked, stroking his thumb over Dorian’s lowest rib. 

Dorian made a noncommittal sound, looking down as the rest of the bandage fell away. A long cut stretched around from his hip to the back of his ribs. Bull scrutinised it, seeing that the wound was shallow, as Dorian had said. 

“Were you moving away when this happened?” He asked, dipping a washcloth into the bathing water. 

At the first touch of the warm cloth on his skin, Dorian flinched, but quickly relaxed again at Bull’s touch, feeling the softness of the cloth and Bull’s hand against his side. Bull placed his free hand high on Dorian’s thigh, keeping a careful pressure on the crease of his hip. 

“It’s alright, love. It’s just me,” the Qunari murmured, moving the cloth slowly over the cut. “You wanna tell me how this happened? You don’t have to, but it looks like you were fighting in close quarters for a while,” Bull said, eyeing the bruises that littered Dorian’s body. 

“Templars,” Dorian said, his voice quiet. “We were ambushed a few days from Skyhold, we’d been riding back as fast as we could, all of us wanted to come home. But they...” Dorian’s eyes seemed to flash, haunted. “They came out of nowhere...”

Bull tossed the cloth to the side, every hint of red gone from Dorian’s skin, he stood, hooking his arms underneath Dorian’s body, and lowered his lover into the warm water. Dorian gave a sweet sigh, going limp in the water. Bull grabbed another cloth and began wiping down each part of Dorian’s body, starting with his toes. He lifted each foot out of the water in turn, running the cloth along the arches, fingers applying light pressure to overused muscles in his ankle, and soothing his heels and the soles of his feet. His hands ran down Dorian’s long legs, weaving their way between his thighs and carefully washing more intimate parts of the mage’s body. The cloth was folded and re-soaked before it brushed up Dorian’s tight stomach and across his chest, smoothing over his nipples, and up to his shoulders. Bull gave his hands and arms the same treatment as his feet, but paying more attention to areas like the fingertips, palm, and his wrists, where Dorian would be affected by his own spellcasting. He folded the cloth again, lightly sweeping over Dorian’s face, and only just grazing the bruise that covered his cheek. Bull noted Dorian’s closed eyes, and grabbed a soap bar from the side of the tub; a mixture of elfroot, cinnamon, and wild roses that he knew Dorian loved. 

Bull placed a hand on Dorian’s shoulder, silently asking him to sit up. The man opened his eyes, and once he’d shuffled upwards, he glanced to the soap in Bull’s hand, closed his eyes again, and tilted his head back, baring his throat. Bull picked up a jug of water left by the side of the tub and slowly tipped some of it over Dorian’s hair, enough to wet the dark locks. He lathered the soap up in his wet hands, and lightly scrubbed it through the thick strands, fingers rubbing at Dorian’s scalp. The mage hummed in pleasure. Once Bull was certain that he’d gotten all of Dorian’s hair, he tipped the rest of the water over his head, being careful not to let the liquid run into Dorian’s eyes. 

Bull put the jug back, and picked the cloth back up, scrubbing it over Dorian’s back. He tossed it aside a final time, and dug the tips of his fingers into the muscles of Dorian’s shoulders, circling, rubbing away the knots. As he rubbed away the tension that had built up in Dorian’s back, he saw the man pull his knees up to his chest out of the corner of his eye. Dorian’s head dropped onto the top of his knees, his body practically folded in half. Bull reached up and threaded his fingers through the hair at the nape of Dorian’s neck. 

“Hush, Kadan. You’re home. Let me see those pretty eyes.” 

Dorian let out a broken laugh against his legs, and slowly, but surely, as Bull petted at his hair, he uncurled himself again. 

“Where did you go, baby?” Bull asked, cupping his free hand around Dorian’s bruised cheek. 

Dorian turned his head towards Bull, the whites of his eyes were bloodshot, as if he’d been crying, but Bull saw no tears. 

“When the Templars attack us... They targeted the Inquisitor. There were so many of them, and we feared for their safety, so we tried to put ourselves in between the fight. There was so many of them, and they kept coming. I’ve never felt such a drain on my magic, casting every spell I knew, releasing my arsenal on each of the corrupted idiots. One of the Templars must have noticed how tired our poor Inquisitor was, for the next thing I saw, was a sword heading straight for them,” Dorian paused and gestured to his side, “I managed to block the strike, and stabbed the bastard with my staff blade, but while I was... distracted. One of them. He... He _Silenced_ me.” 

Bull’s eyes grew wide at Dorian’s words, watching his lover’s eyes fill with tears. 

“It wasn’t the first time I’ve been Silenced, Bull, it wasn’t. But in that situation, with them surrounding us, there was no way out, and it... It felt like... When my father,” Dorian cut himself off, eyes closing to release tears that ran down each side of his face. The mage bit at his lip, breath hitching in a suppressed sob. 

“I keep seeing his face, Bull, mixed with theirs. _I’m sorry, Dorian_ , he said, _it’s for your own good_. Magebane mixed in with my tea, days of weakness slowing my judgement, being _locked up_ in that Maker-foresaken _room_. The _silence_. And then the _blood_ , covering every surface, he had me dragged through it, even though I could barely stand. And the only other thing tying those two events, the _only_ thing, is the _fire_ that came. I can’t recall any other moments in my life where pulling fire from myself had _burned_. And I let it, pushed it even, anything to escape, anything to help. From the Silence burst forth a flame and they _burned_.” 

Bull watched the tears fall down Dorians face, his beautiful grey eyes burning with a mixture of anger and self-hate. He saw every flicker of emotion pass like water rushing down a waterfall; all of the weakness Dorian thought he carried, the insecurity, and the sorrow. He moved to grab the washcloth, and slowly ran it over Dorian’s eyes, patting gently at the sensitive skin. Then he reached out, and smoothed his thumb over Dorian’s beauty mark, stroking back and forth, and gazing into Dorian’s eyes. 

“You are so brave, Kadan. So brave. I’m so proud of you.”

Dorian’s breath hitched again. 

“No, listen to me. I have never lied to you, I have never hurt you. You are safe here, Kadan. Nothing bad will happen to you while you are with me.” 

Dorian sobbed. “I know. I know.” 

Bull hushed him gently, wrapping his arms around the mage. “I’ve got you. Let’s get you warm and dry. You’re okay.” 

Bull pulled the cord to drain the water out of the tub, and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around Dorian before picking the ‘Vint up and cradling him in his arms. He walked swiftly over to the bed with his precious armful, placing him atop the sheets and patting his skin down with the towel to dry him off. Dorian’s tears had stopped, but he was shaking, trembling under the towel. Bull walked across to the dresser and pulled out one of Dorian’s larger sleeping shirts and a pair of his smallclothes. The mage had started leaving many of his belongings in Bull’s room once he’d realised he spent more time there than in his own chambers. Bull gently tugged the smallclothes up, the cotton easily gliding up Dorian’s legs. 

He pulled Dorian up, moving him further back on the bed to rest back against the headboard, and sat next to him, towel in hand, to rub at his hair. As the locks dried, without their usual taming to keep them in place, some of them curled and fell forward, resting on Dorian’s forehead. Bull brushed them away and placed a light kiss at Dorian’s hairline. Then, he picked up the thin shirt that he’d pulled from Dorian’s draw of clothing, pulling it over the mage’s head and easing his arms through. 

There was a quiet knock at the door.

“Chief?” Krem called from the other side of the wood, pushing the door open ever-so slightly. 

“You can come in, Krem. We’re decent. Well,” Bull said, glancing at Dorian’s half-covered form and grinning at his lieutenant, “Somewhat decent.” 

Krem walked in, two bottles in hand; one a deep red, the other almost violet in colour. He came straight over to the bed and his gaze roamed over the visible cut down Dorian’s side, and then he sharply glanced up to the dark circles beneath the mage’s eyes and the bruise that stained his cheek. 

“Oh, Dori,” he breathed, crouching at the bedside, his hand hovering over the cut that adorned Dorian’s hip and ribs. 

The mage took that moment to let an involuntary shudder rack his body, Bull dropped the rest of the light shirt’s fabric to cover Dorian up, and Krem pulled the sheets over the mage’s legs. 

“That’s what this is for,” Krem said, motioning to the blue-purple potion in his hands. “Dalish could sense your magic when you came into the tavern, spoke to Stitches about it sounding very concerned and very... Not-Dalish. Something about aftereffects of Templar abilities and using your magic too soon?” He finished, giving Dorian a look akin to the one a scolding mother would give a child. 

“And the other?” Dorian asked, eyeing the dark red colouration of the second bottle. 

“Stitches specialty! Better than your normal healing potion, and quicker too, while your magic’s out of whack, only the best for one of our own, y’know?” Krem grinned. 

Dorian stretched forward with a shaking hand, but Krem stopped him, holding the potions outside of Dorian’s reach. 

“Nah, lemme help you out, you’re trembling all over the place, Dori. I’ve got ya.” 

Bull kept a steady hand on Dorian’s back, lightly rubbing up and down in a soothing, repetitive motion. Krem uncorked both potions, picked up the blue-purple solution and held it to Dorian’s lips, cupping his other hand at the back of the mage’s head. Once half the potion had been swallowed, he pulled it away, and replaced it with the other one, threading his fingers through Dorian’s hair. Half of that potion was soon gone as well, and Krem re-corked them, leaving them on the bedside table. He grasped the sides of Dorian’s face, clasping his hands over the mage’s cheeks and ears. 

“Take the other half of each tomorrow, okay? I’ll come by with food around midday. You won’t be disturbed before then.” 

Dorian nodded, wearily. “Thank you, Krem.” 

Krem grinned. “Anytime, just try not to make a habit of this, Dori. The Chargers don’t like seeing you out of sorts.” 

“I shall endeavour not to,” Dorian retorted, blinking slowly. 

Bull pulled Dorian back towards him, letting the mage rest his head against his shoulder and curl into him. He continued running his hand up and down his back. 

“Will you boys be okay for the night?” Bull asked, looking at Krem. 

“We’ve got it, Chief. You stay here with Dorian. No one’s getting in this room before midday. I’ll take care of everyone.”

“Thanks, Krem-puff,” Bull grinned. 

Krem scowled playfully, turning to leave with a final glance at Dorian. “Look after our mage, Chief!” 

“No worries there,” Bull replied, watching his lieutenant leave. 

Dorian moved closer to Bull, his chest rising steadily and falling. Bull pulled up the blanket over Dorian’s shoulders. 

“Thank you, Amatus,” Dorian whispered. 

“Anytime, Kadan,” Bull replied. “Sleep now, I’ve got you.” 

Dorian nuzzled into Bull’s chest, eyes slipping entirely closed. He was safe here.


End file.
